


Neville Longbottom and the Secrets of the Mirror

by Ifeelwitchcraftuponme



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Chosen One Neville, Dark Harry Potter, Death of the Author, Eventual Relationships, Harry Potter Deserves Better, JKR is a TERF thats why, JKR is dead to us, Jk rowling is dead, Minor Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom is a Good Friend, Other, Platonic Relationships, Slytherin Harry Potter, Tags Are Hard, harry potter but diverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28652487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ifeelwitchcraftuponme/pseuds/Ifeelwitchcraftuponme
Summary: So we all know JKR is dead to us.So here is the story she was to scared to give us, our hero isn't the confident and popular icon you know, and instead it falls to Neville Longbottom. He never though he would be a wizard let alone the chosen one, but when he receives his hogwarts letter his life is turned upside down.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, unsure yet - Relationship
Comments: 14
Kudos: 16





	1. The boy who lived

####  Chapter One The boy who lived

Neville Longbottom was a perfectly normal wizard. He lived on a perfectly normal wizarding road in a perfectly normal wizard village just outside of Cambridge. This wasn’t to say that nothing unusual ever happened, but no one blinked twice as a great black owl with intensely orange eyes swooped down through the village, nearly knocking a passing teenager off his broom and through the open kitchen window.

Eleven year old Neville looked incredibly normal, a small mousy boy, bordering on round, or pudgy as great auntie Ethel called him when she popped over. His hair was an forgettably boring brown, cut in a somewhat unfortunate bowl cut, only just covering the scar on his forehead.

He had tried to stare at it in the mirror when he had been younger, he had heard his Grandmother and his uncles whispering about it whilst they were sure he was asleep, but there was nothing particularly unusual about it.

All that could be seen of it when he pulled back his fringe was a small white line coming down from his temple. But he had seen the full thing before, his great uncle Algie had stopped trying to force the magic out of him and instead had just shaved his head when Grandmother and great aunties Enid and Ethel weren’t looking. It was a lightning bolt, as jagged and interesting as the rest of Neville were round and boring. 

Neville had just been slathering his morning toast with cousin Basil’s mystery fruit jam, when the owl landed in front of him.

This wasn’t new, his extended family were constantly sending owls over, Auncle Marid had even sent a small eagle once on their globe hopping travels, but this wasn’t one he had seen before.

“Grandma!” He called up the stairs, “there’s post for you here.” He offered the bird a chunk of ham from the leg that Grandmother had traded one of their neighbours for an interestingly stuffed hare. But it just continued to stare at him. It’s piercing eyes digging into him, Neville had the overwhelming feeling that it would prefer to eat him. It hopped towards him extending its leg out, causing Neville to hop back himself with a little squeak.

Feeling like an idiot for being intimidated by an owl he brushed the crumbs of the front of his pajamas and tried not to look at the owl.

The owl just continued to stare at him.

Then from the recesses of the big house came Grandmother's voice, “it should be for you Neville.” She replied, her voice just as stern as always, but Neville could tell she wasn’t angry. But he was still confused, other than his family, nice Mrs Hartlington next door, weird Mr Nendor and his massive bee colony or the nice family down the road whose children had all grown up, Neville didn’t really know anyone else.

He had always been a very sheltered child, he hadn’t known that a rain of stars or unseasonal flights of owls had heralded him that night, he didn’t know anyone else. 

Grandmother always tried to protect him from the world, she had chased some strangers in robes and pointy hats off with a broom before, she had been terrifying that day, Fox scarf flapping, she had been especially fierce when one of the strangers had got round the back of the house and great uncle had to Algie chase the man off with a pitchfork.

Grandmother had almost cursed all of the strangers that day, and Neville had never really understood why, or even really cared. Grandmother would have done anything to protect him.

But now Grandmother performed a rousing rendition of that day, as she flopped down the stairs, her bony arms raised in what Neville guessed was celebration. But her face didn't seem to be so happy, the tight smile didn't meet her eyes, and she looked almost pained.

“The owls for you, you silly boy.” she said, her voice tense, as she patted Neville on the head, a little too hard. The owl just stared at the mismatched pair of them, the svere old woman, with dark angry eyes, all sharp angles and wrinkles of someone who has seen too much, and her grandson, who carried none of the same height as her, his dark eyes big and sad, with an unfortunate haircut and pinstriped green pajamas.

It extended its leg out gaing, and Grandmother snapped the message puch from around its outstretched leg, inside the little leather pouch came an ivory envelope, surprisingly undamaged or wrinkled by its journey via owl.

Neville had no idea what it could be, in his excitement he could barely read his own name and address written neatly on the letter in swooping emerald green calligraphy.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards) 

Dear Mr Longbottom, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find an enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 july.

Yours sincerely 

Minerva McGonagall 

Deputy Headmistress

Neville’s hands were shaking as he read the letter, he had heard all about Hogwarts, it had been expected of him since he had been born, especially after the accident. Everyone expected him to be an amazing wizard, but he had never felt like he had fitted in.

After the first few years of magical incompetence, no one had really expected much from him, he had read a letter from one of his mothers distant cousins that had said how none of the great magic schools would have wanted to take him, even if Grandmother had to pay them.

Neville had never told her, but for years he had felt like a failure, Uncle Algie had even rewarded him for the most basic magic he could perform, like a baby that needed encouragement, yet here the letter was, the letter he had been sure he might never have gotten.

Yet he had almost gotten used to that idea.

Neville had felt bad of course, he had felt useless for years, yet if the letter never came, maybe people would stop looking to him to be a hero, instead he could just be happy as a squib, he could get a job and be a scientist or a vet like the people on muggle television that Uncle Algie had shown him.

But here it was, the final definitive proof, that Neville wasn't that kind of normal. He was a wizard, like the rest of his family. 

It hit him a bit like how he imagined a punch to the gut, all the air vanishing from his lungs.

He was a wizard.

A wizard going to hogwarts.

And like that it set in, he inhaled, unsure whether a weight had been lifted or had fallen upon him.

He handed the letter to his Grandmother, eyes wide.

What would she say? 

She read it, her lips pulling tight into a thin line, narrowing her eyes, the fox on her hat’s tail, swinging lower with each sentence she read. Her eyes skimmed back up to the top again, double checking the name of the adresse.

“What do you think Grandmother?” Neville said quietly, trying to ignore the satammer in his own voice.

She lowered the letter to look him in the eyes, that cold scrutinizing look still in her eyes.

“You don't have to go.”

Neville paused, questions buzzing in his head like fireflies.

“I don't?”

Grandmother put the letter down carefully, her motion so robotic like she was afraid something would shatter. She looked Neville up and down, taking everything in with the same impartial glare of the owl. Nevile tried to stop his hands from shaking, but his breathing was rapid, and Grandmother knew him so well, she had raised him after all, she knew everyone one of his tells.

“You don't Neville, perhaps i can talk to Minerva, ask to put any formal education back a year,” she met his eyes, “maybe two.”

“Grandmother-”

“Neville, you are my grandson, you are just as much a wizard as anyone else in this family, but- you are delicate Neville.”

“I'm not delicate-” Neville burst indignantly, he may have been weak and young and inexperienced, but he was delicate.

“Neville,” she replied sharply, “i know you are not delicate, but after your parents- no.” she stopped and straightened herself even more, “you don't have to.” she repeated.

“Are you sure Grandmother?”

“You don't have to go ever Neville, not if you don't want to-

“What's going on here?” Great uncle Algie said, peeking his head over Grandmother's shoulder “what's happening Augusta? Is the world ending?” he said with a hearty chuckle, rustling his large hand through Neville’s already messy hair.

Great uncle Algie had been a prominent member of the Longbottom since the accident, and since his brother and Neville’s grandfather had died peacefully in his sleep, he had been staying in one of the spare rooms more and more often, despite Grandmothers disapproval.

He took a bite of Neville's abandoned toast, and had to remove an owl feather from his mouth.

“Neville’s letter arrived, Algie if you must know.” Grandmother replied tersely. “We were just discussing what we should do next.” she said, pulling Neville closer, “im sure Minerva will be most understanding when we decide to keep Neville here-”

“You what?” Algae cried with greatly exaggerated surprise, spitting crumbs everywhere.

“You can't be doing that now Augusta,” he said busting past to grab a quill and a roll of parchment from behind the post rack, “i shall write to the school right away, Neville would be most delighted to go. Wouldn't you Neville.”

Neville said nothing, looking down at his slippered feet.

“Come on now Neville, you are Longbottom man, you must go. You have the family legacy to uphold, not to mention you are the chosen one-”

“Algie.” Grandmother hissed clipping him across the back of his steadily balding head. “We will not have this conversation in front of my grandson.”

Great uncle Algie opened his mouth to reply, but Grandmother was faster.

“He is my grandson and my responsibility, Algie, I will do whatever I can to protect him.”

“Augusta, he's old enough to learn how to protect himself, I'm sure that all of the family would agree with me about that.”

But all Neville could hear was the blood rushing in his ears, all these raised voices, on the edge of shouting, but no one cared what he thought.

“GRANDMOTHER- please.” he yelled, his hands over his ears, “please, can you- can you just listen to me?”

She looked stunned, but she lowered her arms and her face softened slightly, “of course Neville,” she said cautiously, her tone almost how Neville would imagine sheepishness sounded, “it's your decision, you don't have to do anything you don't want to.” said with a quick but venomous glare at Algie.

“I- I t-think-” he began with a stammer, “i think i should go.”

And deep down he released he meant it.

Under those years of fear and disappointment, Neville really did want to leave, to see a little more of the world, learn a little more, instead of just waiting.

Grandmother and Great uncle Algie exchanged looks, but Algie set the quill down on the table and Neville watched as his Grandmother began to write out an acceptance letter.

That huge angry looking Owl watching their every move. 

“We’ll have to go out and buy you new equipment of course, but-”

She was cut off as Neville hugged her.

Hesitantly she wrapped her bony arms around him, holding ehr precious grandson, the last remaining part of her son and daughter in law, and she dreaded letting go.


	2. Saying Good by and Hello

####  Chapter 2 Saying goodbye and hello.

The remaining month before the start of the new term seems to fly by, the Longbottom house had been buzzing with relatives, the house loud and chaotic, distant family members counting down the days and decorating the stuffed animals with bits of school uniform and the occasional glittery and rainbow coloured charm. 

As a family they had all been counting down the days.

The days until they youngest and most infamous member finally flew the nest. Even Uncle Marrid had been there, all suntanned and proudly displaying a new scar from a griffon they had gained whilst on a trek across south america. Cousin Basil had brought over his new boyfriend and Great uncle Algie had charmed a bucket of water over several times, just to annoy Grandmother.

But the day came all the same, with just Neville and his grandmother, most of the rest leaving the day before after a quick celebration involving cake. After a quick breakfast and a hurried scouring of the house for anything Neville could have forgotten the two of them piled Neville’s various suitcases into the old muggle car that only existed for muggle trips like this. Neville had to jump out of his seat to catch Trevor the escapist toad and return him to the terrarium Grandmother could have sworn she had already charmed closed, and that was before they had even left the driveway.

Then as Grandmother gripped the steering wheel tight like death, they made their way out of the little village and towards london.

They were both quiet for most of the journey, with Grandmother only shooting him furtive glances and the rear view window, her lips cursed tight like she had eaten a lemon. With nothing better to do Neville turned his eyes to the windows, watching as the scenery grow and shrink around him. He had barely been beyond the village before this, except for the occasional trip to diagon alley, but that was by floo powder, he hadn't really seen anything like this before. In the world of the muggles, London raised its great grey head as the roads grew and Neville watched in awe as they were surrounded by other cars, he stared at the other people around them, waving to the people whose cars they passed.

Some were bemused, children waved back, others just ignored him. It was possibly more people than he had ever seen in his life. He wondered how many were like him, had he seen any of his future classmates he wondered if there couldn't be more people in the world, these people were already more than enough.

But as they pulled into King’s cross, Neville began to see more signs of wizardry, there were cars that seemed to emite sparking purple smoke from the exhaust, some with wheels that didn't seem to completely touch the ground, or even the one that seemed to be growing daisies out of the engine. The more he looked the more he wondered, each moment he grew more excited, more confident, these people were like him, and as he unloaded his trunk from the back of the car, loading Trevor and everything else up onto a trolley, he wondered if anyone would like him.

At home it was always certain, he was the baby of the family. He was to be protected after everything that had happened to him, and for the most part, everyone did.

The interest he had drummed up in the magical community as a child unbeknownst to him, and long since faded. All thanks to the fierce protection around him.

His parents became a tragedy of war and Neville, more or less just a face in the crowd, as far as he knew.

But some people however, were much more stubborn, they calculated the day that he would have to reemerge in the world, and they were ready.

Whispers were passed by parents shepherding their unruly offspring towards the platforms. Magical vendors and staff, watched the influx of new students and spread the rumours, the rumours of the boy who lived.

They were on time, but Neville released Grandmother couldn't help but look at the clock on the departure board, she was looking back and forth furtively when she didn't think Neville was watching, counting down to when she would have to let go.

As they made their way over towards the ninth and tenth platforms, Grandmother pointed out another family to him.

“You see them Neville.” Grandma asked, her voice hoarse. “That's the Weasley family, another of the pureblood households.”

The family took the form of six people, each with matching identical flame red hair, Neville watched with awe as they whole group waved between the ordinary london commuters, and then as they reached the wall between the signs for platforms nine and ten, they simply just kept going, Neville watched surprised and silent, as the whole group barreled towards the wall. But then one by one they all vanished, if by magic.

Which it was.

“What was that?” Neville asked shocked, he had never seen anything like this before, his grandmother looked down at him bemused, “it was magic Neville, the hogwarts express could be somewhere the muggles could see it now could it?”

Neville scrunched his face, he hadn't really thought about it like that before, “i guess not.” he said, “do we have to go though it too?”

But he didn't need an answer, his grandmother strode towards the magically hidden portal, her heeled boots cracking against the floor, muggles in suits and ties, jumped out of her way, tourists parting like the sea for this intimidating older woman.

Neville trailing behind her, trying to push the concerningly heavy trolley on his own.

Grandmother only waited long enough to beacon him in, her face as stern and ston as the very surface of the wall, just as she seemed to fall backwards through the wall. 

Now the trolley began to pick up its own speed and Neville put all his body weight behind it, pushing as hard as he could, but before he could slow down, or even look up at the huge and incredibly dense and real looking wall before him, he simply sailed through.

It was like a curtain had been pulled in front of him, as he opened his tightly clenched eyes, the air that had been rushing past his face, was now filled with warmth, the smell of freshly baked pie, of wook smoke, the air alive with magic, and noise. The great steam engine, as scarlet as anything that Neville had ever seen was waiting next to a platform packed with people and animals, Cats and cat-like creatures word through the people, one even rubbing itself across Neville’s trouser leg as he struggled to control his kareening trolley.

A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock, but the train carriages already looked full, children of all ages were waving through windows, hooting and yelling, some still hanging out of open doors and windows, some still waiting to board.

Grandmother appeared tight to his side as he took it all in,

“I believe one of the Weasley boys is going to be in your year Neville,” she said, piloting him though the crowds by the shoulders, moving past the knot of the ginger family, a younger girl with long red hair, clinging onto the legs of an older brother. Begging him to stay. “They may not be the most accomplished family,” Grandmother said sharply, “but they are loyal, and certainly more welcoming than some others,” she said growing as she tilted her head towards a grumpy looking blonde boy and his parents.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. But Grandmother had pulled him away, before he could see what was in the box he was carrying.

Near the end of the train, Grandmother stopped him at an almost empty compartment, she began to lift his trunk onto the train with a flick of her long elegant wand.

In a moment of panic Neville fumbled with his pockets, but his wand was tucked away on the inside of his coat. Just where Grandmother Had put it so he couldn't lose it.

She caught Nevilles eyes as he did so, and shook her head in disapproval, he needed to be more careful, otherwise he was not going to have a good first year.

But before he could apologize she pulled him into a hug, the stuffed fox right in his face.

“Promise to write to me.” she said releasing him.

“I will Grandmother.” he said, choking out a little bit of stray fur.

“Good,” she said, snappin up straight, all stern and angled again. “Now go and make the family proud Neville.”

And like that she nodded and turned away, striding back into the crowd of parents as other students gathered about, climbing past him. So Neville turned away and began to push his enchanted trunk towards an empty compartment.

From where he was, curled up against the window, half-hidden, he could see the crowds of doting parents, but try as he might he couldn't catch a glimpse of grandmother. There seemed to be no trace of her or her oversized hat, he couldn't help it, but his eyes were pulled back to that ginger family,

Their mother was nothing like his Grandmother, she was all curves and smiles, clinging on tighter to her children then Neville doubted Grandmother ever would, she had just taken out her handkerchief and began rubbing at the face of the boy Nveille guessed was his age. 

"Ron,” she exclaimed loud enough that she could be heard over the rest of the crowd, “you've got something on your nose.' The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

Then she turned to two identical looking brothers who must have been twins. 

“Now, you two –look after Ron. and Ron remember that Longbottom boy will be in your year, so be nice to him, i doubt he's very-”

Neville ducked down before he could hear the rest of what she said, look out for him? Whatever could she mean, there was nothing special about Neville.

Unless there was someone Longbottom his age.

Which Neville greatly doubted, but it did seem like something that would happen to him.

Neville could just about hear the little girl's voice. "Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, Mum, oh please.” but she was quickly shushed by her mother. 

“Ginny, and the poor boy isn't some- thing you goggle at in a zoo.”

A whistle sounded, and Neville poked his head back up to take one more good look at them,

“Are some people watching?” someone asked

The voice came from right behind Neville, causing him to squeak, like a mouse someone had stepped on, in surprise.

“Sorry,” the other boy said, through a heavy irish accent, “but is it just you in here?”

“we didn't know if you were waiting for someone?” the other boy said, looking over his shoulder at Neville who looked like he had been trying to burrow into the corner of the train car.

“No-” neville said, trying not to stammer, “it's just me, you can come in if-”

But the two boys had already let them sleeves in, and sat themselves on the very opposite end of the car.

“Every other car was full, I hope you don't mind.”

Neville shook his head with great force, 

“Okay good,” the itish one said, folding his legs up under him, “is this your first year too?”

“Yes?”

“Oh nice-”

“He doesn't mean to be rude, my hes Seamus, im Dean.” he said, extending his hand, seamus just elbowed him,

“Did you hear, the boy who lived is meant to be in our year-

“Seamus-”

“Isn't that exited, what do you think hes like, i bet it's that moody guy in the glasses-”

“Seamus.”

“What?”

“Slow down, we don't even know his name.” Dean said, looking suring tired for someone who was eleven.

“Im Neville,” Neville said cautiously, wanting to curl back up and hope they all forgot he was there.

“Nice to meet ya, Neville.”

“Are you excited for school?” you look pretty nervos-”

“I-”

“Do you know anyone else here? I only know Dean because my mom was friends with his dad, my mam’s a witch, are either of you parents-”

“Seamus, clam down, he isn't going anywhere.”

As Seamus took a second to breath, Neville looked around and realized the train had started to move, parents and siblings were following the train as it began to speed up, Seamus began to wave at a woman who had his crooked smile and sticky-uppy hair, she must have been his mother, his father stood beside her at the train platform, looking confused.

Neville watched the crowds disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. He felt a great leap of excitement. He didn't know what he was going to- but he hoped it was going to be more exciting than what he was leaving behind. 

“Do you know Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down the middle of the train, i want to know how he got it,”

“I thought the letters said we were only meant to have cats, owls or toads?” Neville said, nervously running his hands through his fringe, he didn't like the idea of all those legs.

“Yeah well my cousin Rory left last year and he said we should keep an eye out for Lee- apparently he keeps pranking people.”

“Pranks- really? What if you don't want to get pranked?” Neville asked, a little tremor in his voice, 

“Oh well I'm sure-” Dean started, but before he could finish his sentence, Seamus whose eyes had suddenly gone wide held up his arm to stop him.

Dean's eyes followed him, and Neville could feel the blood rush to his face as he realised it was him they were staring at.

He tried to flatten his hair down, to curl himself back up. 

But it was too late for that.

“Are you really him?” Seamus blurted,

“Really who?” Neville replied voice barely more than a squeak,

“Him!” Dean said like it would clear everything up, “the boy who lived.”


	3. The Hogwarts Express

####  Chapter 3 The Hogwarts express.

“Can you slow down please, and explain who it is you think i am?” Neville asked,

“Do you mean you really don't know?” dean asked, “even i know and i thought i was a muggleborn for years,”

“Are you sure it's actually him?” Seamus stage whispered to Dean,

“Well I thought so, you saw the sacr too.”

“The scar? I've had that since I was a baby. There's nothing special about it.” Neville said flipping his fringe up,

“Whoa.” Seamus said, not even bothering to pretend he wasn't staring,

“What's so special about my scar anyway?”

Both the other boys looked shocked, trading conspiratory glances, 

“are you sure you were raised as a wizard?” Seamus said, “everyone else knows all about the story-”

“Well i was raised by my Grandmother, and she's about as witch as you can find-”

“What happened to you parents?” Seamus burst, Dean kicked him, 

“seriously Seamus you can't just ask people that.”

“No its fine, i can't remember anything from before the accident.'' This was a lie, Neville had one other memory, and it was a weird one he didn't like to think about, it involved a flash of green, and a scream.

He did not like to think about it.

The two other boys glanced uncertainty at each other, Neville could tell there was something that they weren’t telling him.

“What? What is it?”

Dean inhaled through his teeth, not meeting Neville’s eyes,

“It wasn't an accident that killed your parents Neville-”

“What?”

“Well-”

“Are you saying my family has been lying to me?” Neville exclaimed, his breath seemed to catch in his throat, and he could feel the corners of his eyes prickeling.

“Well i don't know your family but-”

“Maybe they were trying to protect you?” Seamus replied, his voice rising too, but his face was red and he looked both scared and embarrassed.

“Why,” Neville said, the tears starting to spill over, “why would they keep something like this from me?”

“Should we really be the ones to tell him?” Seamus whispered,

“He can't get to school without knowing, everyone will be asking.” Dean replied as if Neville wasn't sitting across from them,

“I don't think we could tell you everything, most of it is a mystery, and we only really know what Seamus’ mum told us.”

“Yeah, my mam said we were old enough to know, especially if we might meet you,” he then turned to Dean, “ remind me to tell her when i write to her later.”

Dean glared at him, but then continued; “apparently it all started twenty or so years ago, some really bad wizard, like really really bad wizard called-” then he stopped, “i can't say it-”

“-Go on, it's not like me mam’s watching us right now-”

“Could you write it down?” Neville suggested. 

Dean shook his head, then very conspartoly looked around, his eyes wide he leaned over, “Voldemort.” he whispered, then gave a shudder.

“Why can't you say that?” neville asked innocently, 

“Sheesh Neville, i guess people are still scared, it's like a swear word,”

“My mam made Rory wash his mouth out with soap when he said it, like she did when he tried to teach me swear words.”

“Any way,” Dean continued, “about twenty years ago, he started gathering other bad wizards, he wanted to take over all of the magical world, and then with that power take over the rest of the world-”

“-he hated muggles, he wanted to rule them all, but people stood up against him, and fought back, One of the only safe places left was Hogwarts. People reckon Dumbledore's the only one He was afraid of.”

“But what about my parents?” Nevile asked, wiping off the rest of his tears, in all of his life these were the things that had been hidden from him.

“Er, these were the bits were his Mam didn't tell us everything about,” 

“Near the end of all the fighting,” Seamus continued, “he targeted your parents to join him, but Mam says they said that they would never turn evil, so he turned up in the village where you were all living, on Hallowe'en ten years ago, and He killed them.”

“That's it?”

“No, not all of it.”

“Yeah that was the mystery of it all,” Seamus said, still looking sheepish if his mother was going to appear out of nowhere. “Apparently He tried to kill you too, but it failed, and that's what gave you the scar,” Seamus said pointing to his own temple,

“After that he vanished, failing to kill you apparently drained him of all his power and he vanished.”

“As well as that the reason you are meant to be so special is because you survived, you were a baby and were the only one to survive him.”

Something very painful was going on in Nveille's mind. As the story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before- and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life-a high, cold, cruel laugh. 

The two other boys were watching him sadly. 

But his heart was racing, there was so much of his own life he hadn't known, yet in some way he had always had some kind of idea that there had to be something else about it. They way his family had been so desperate to see some kind of magic from him, how they had always been so protective of him.

Those strange people that always used to try and sneak into the house, they hadn't been any old strangers, they had been looking for him.

For every random wizard in a pointy hat Grandmother has beaten off with a broom, she had to relieve everything that had happened.

Ther had always been something she had been protecting him from.

But he had just never asked.

“After that the fighting stopped, i guess we were all too young to realise at the time, but no one really knows what happened to you or what happened to Him-

“Anything off the trolley, dears?”

Neville yelped like he had been poked at the same time that Seamus screamed and Dean just yelled “nothin- we were doing nothing!”

The smiling dimplead old woman who had been wheeling the food trolley past their co apartment just chuckled.

“Anything off the trolley, dears?” she repeated with all the patience of one of Neville’s great aunts.

“Ohh yes,” Dean chirped, recovering quickly, “do you have any Mars Bars-” he said hoping to his feet, but Seamus just shoved him with a laugh,

”There's no muggle snacks here, it's a wizard train.”

Neville rummaged around in the top of one of his bags, Grandmother had just given him enough money for emergencies, or alternatively a small snack, which she had also packed.

It was a rather sad looking Tomato cheese and lettuce sandwich that hadn't appreciated being partially sat on, so Nevilel joined the other boys in the corridor.

Grandmother had some rules on the amount of snacks he had in the house, but it was always easy to find Uncle Algie’s stash. There were Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, and all sorts of other things he couldnt put a name to, between the three of them they bought some of everything, Seamus’ mam had sent him with plenty of cash and even Dean had a small allowance of magical money.

Neville hadn't ever really had anyone his age to share things with before. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Dean and Seamus, eating their way through a sugary mountain of sweets, the squashed sandwiches having been dismantled and parts fed to Trevor. 

Neville watched his toad lovingly, stroking the back of the little warty mastermind, his mind filled with heaviery thoughts.

“I've got loads to learn I bet,” he murmured, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, “i know absolutely nothing about the outside world, i don't even know about my own history,”

“Oh don't worry You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families.”

“Or at least thought they did,” Dean interjected. “After my dad died, my mum- who is a muggle by the way- got married again, but to another muggle, so now i have loads of muggle half siblings, thank god for Seamus’ mam, and one of my distant Aunties, otherwise i would have no clue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a bit shorter, i wasn't really sure where to put the chapter breaks, but its important for Neville to learn the truth. updates soon, hopefully.


	4. A meeting of minds

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and flick past. 

Occasionally Seamus would goran or give a little cheer as he sorted through his new collection of chocolate frog cards, afterall Neville already had a collection at home, he had got a box of them a couple of christmases ago and he had collected them from gifts for the next few years, so he had just given all the cards to Seamus, who really didn't seem to mind. Dean had pulled out what looked like one of his textbooks, and was already reading through it as they ate their way through their stash of snacks.

Most of the bertie bott’s beans sat ignored, no one was really brave enough to try them after Dean had eaten a funny grey one which had turned out to be pepper. The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers and dark green hills. 

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the ginger boy who must have been Ron, the one Neville had passed on platform nine and three- quarters came in. He looked grumpy and had a grey smudge at the end of his nose. 

"Sorry,' he said, but have you seen a rat at all? When they shook their heads, he just sighed, “I've lost him, I can't believe it.” when he took in the other boys confused faces he continued, “hes technically my brother’s rat and no one likes him, still my mum will kill me if i've lost him first day, can you shout if you see him.” he said, before turning on his heel and sloping away.

“Well that happened.” Dean said going back to his book,

“I can't believe he's so casual about it though, if I lost Trevor I'd be tearing this train apart.”

Seamus snorted, “i doubt he'd get far,”

“You'd be surprised,” neville said with a little laugh, “he's a surprisingly good escape artist.”

“I'd like to see him try.” Seamus said staring at the otherwise completely ordinary looking toad.

“I bet you will.”

But by then Ron had gone,

“I wonder what his deal is,” Dean said, checking that Ron really was out of earshot,

“Apparently, he has like, loads of siblings. His dad works at the ministry with my uncle Fergus,”

“Well,” Neville said, “I think he's in our year, do you think we’ll have any lessons with him?”

“Depends on what house we get sorted into,” Dean said, lowering his book, as he did so Neville could read the title,  _ A history of Hogwarts. _

“Whats a house?”

Dean had just opened his mouth to explain when the compartment door slid open again. The ratless Ron was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes. 

“Has anyone seen a rat? Ron’s lost one, and he wont stop going on about it.” she said. She had a teacher-like sort of voice, lots of dark bushy brown hair and rather white teeth in braces, that stood out against her dark brown skin. 

“We've already told him we haven't seen it,” said Seamus,

“Oh,” she said, then noticed what Dean had in his hands, “how exciting in, I got a few extra books for background reading too, and Ron said i was over doing it, and no one else would be doing the same, i've got  _ Modern Magical History _ and  _ The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _ and  _ Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, _ ” she paused to catch her breath, eyes sparkling, “im Hermione Granger.”

“I'm Dean Thomas, and that's pretty cool. I haven't got round to reading all of those yet, but I'll listen to your recommendation. I want to learn as much as I can about this world.”

“Me too!” Hermione replied, turning her attention to the two other occupants of the carriage, her eyes flicked over Seamus, but seemed to waver on the sight of Neville. Her gaze traced upwards to his hairline, and Nveille tired to avert his eyes.

But it was a little too late, and Hermione’s eyes went wide,

“Im Neville Longbottom,” he said nervously, feeling his face go red, 

"Are you really?” said Hermione.” I know all about you, of course, did you know you're in so at least five of the books i've read,”

“Really?” Neville asked incredulously

Seeing how brightly coloured Nveille had gone, and how Seamus seems to be just enjoying the show, Dean cut in.

“As you have it we were just talking about houses.”

“How interesting, do you know what house you'll be in?” she said, diverting her attention again, “I've been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best,” she continued, she looked happy to finally be getting it out, and Dean and Neville was more than happy to listen, Neville wanted to learn as much as he could before actually getting to school, “ I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway we'd better go and look for Ron's rat.” she said, turning to glare at a disinterested Ron, “but you three had better get changed, you know, I expect we'll be there soon.” And she left, taking the restless ginger boy with her. 

“She seems nice,” Neville said, “i hope i'm in the same house as her, but what did she mean? what's so important about the houses?”

“Well-” started Dean, lifting his book to read from it,

“Each house is supposed to mean something, if you are strong and brave you are a Gryfindor,” Seamus said taking over, “Rory told be all about this, if you are smart you are Ravenclaw, which wouldn't be too bad, then there's Slytherin. That's the house He, amd a bunch of other bad guys were in-”

“How does that work exactly,” Dean said cutting him off, “does that mean that you are inherently evil if you are a Slytherin, because that sounds like a bad system, couldnt you go bad if you were too strong or smart-”

“Not helping here Dean, why don't you ask a teacher or something. And then there's the other one, it's where they put everyone else.”

_ I bet that's where i'll end up with my ability,  _ Neville thought to himself,  _ where they put everyone else, although perhaps that's not such a bad thing. _

As he mused yo himself Seamus got up to search his legs, when he returned, he was caring a newspaper Neville recognised, the photo on the front page was of the magic primminister standing outside a grandiose marble building shaking his fist, as Nveille watched Corneilus Fudge paced back and forth across the paper.

“Heh, well that's interesting,” Seamus remarked with a flapping over oversized pages, “Did you hear about Gringotts? Someone tried to rob a high security vault.” he said opening up a much larger page photo of what must have been the Gringotts floor. 

But Nveill just starred, he had never actually seen it in real life, but it still looked fancy and like it would have been hard to rob. 

“Really? What happened to them?" Dean said, snatching at the paper,

“Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They havent been caught. It must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but it looks like they didn't take anything, that's why it's so odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case He or as they've put it ‘You-Know-Who’ is behind it.”

Neville pondered this for a moment, but it meant nothing to him. Afterall he was meant to be dead and gone.

Seamus just went back to reading and had begun filling in the crossword when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Hermione or the trolley witch.

Three boys entered and Neville just about recognised the middle one, he had got a brief glance at him on the train platform, he was all thin and pale, with a pinched face that Nveille hadn't really gotten a good look at.

He was looking at Neville with an almost hungry interest,

“Is it true? he said, cocking his head as he stared, ignoring Dean and Seamus entirely, T”they're saying all down the train that the  _ ‘chosen one’ _ is in this compartment.” he laughed harshly, “So it's you, is it?”

“err, yes i think so.” replied Neville nervously. He couldn't help looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing either side of the pale boy they looked like bodyguards, Dean looked uncomfortable like he was trying to sink into the seat, whereas Seamus looked like he was ready for a fight, the daily prophet in his hand crumpling. 

“Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,” said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Neville was looking. “And the name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

H3 held his hand out, shoving it almost into Neville’s face, but Nveille don't take it or introduce himself, he just tried to avoid that piercingly pale gaze.

Outside the carriage someone gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy spun on his heel, eyes going wide. 

“Think that's funny, do you?” he snapped to someone just hidden from Neville’s view, but from where Dean and Seamus could see their eyes went wide. “Stay out of this Potter.” Draco snarled.

Potter, there was another name Neville had learnt, someone else new for him to compare against, but he didn't get a chance to meet the other boy yet, Draco turned back to Unveil his face pink, 

“You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others,  _ chosen one _ , You don't want to go making friends with the Wrong sort. I can help you there.” He held out his hand again but Neville didn't take it.

He didn't want to befriend anyone who made his friends look this scared, or someone who seemed to put so much venom behind the title of a boy he had never met before.

But before Draco could do anything else, or Neville could push his hand away, Potter made his move.

“I think he can tell who the wrong sort are for himself, thanks Draco,” a voice said coolly. 

Draco Malfoy didn't go pink, but further red.

But he didn't seem to like being insulted in this way.

“I'd be careful if I were you, Potter,” Draco hissed slowly. “Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents.”

Out of nowhere a fist collided with Draco’s pale cheek bone.

And Neville got his first good look at Harry Potter.

He didn't look much older than Neville himself, and he must have been in the same year as his robes were blank, but he had a few centimeters on Draco. His wild black hair bushing across the tops of his glasses, his very bright green eyes, narrowed in a fiery rage.

And he lunged again, his warm brown skin colliding with Draco Malfoy’s already purpling cheek.

“Say that again,” he snarled.

But Draco made the smart decision and didn't, so Goyle reached to peel him up off the train’s carpet, before all three of them slunk off, disappearing back down the train at once. Perhaps they didn't think they could beat the furious boy in front of them, and Neville simply wasn't worth it, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come to their door. What has been going on?' she said, staring at Harry with his red knuckles and Nevill, Seamus and Dean who all looked starstruck.

“Thank you for getting rid of them,” Neville whispered nervously,

“And can i help you with anything?” Hermione asked eyes wide,

But Harry Potter just wiped his face and stalked away, saying nothing.

“What a weirdo,” Seamus muttered,

“You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!” hermione asked, incredulously.

“No,” Neville peeped, “he did all the fighting for us.”

“Can we help you with anything else?” Seamus asked Hermione, a little suspiciously 

She just frowned, “You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the driver and he says we're nearly there.” her voice was a little sniffy, but she turned and walked back down the train nonetheless.

Neville gave a great sigh of relief as the door slid close behind her, and stared out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep-purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down. The three of them struggled into their robes, just as a voice echoed through the train:

“We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.” 

Neville's stomach lurched with nerves, he didn't like the idea of leaving Trevor behind, he saw that both Dean and Seamus tooked just as nervously excited as he felt inside, even if he did feel slightly like he knees were about to collapse out from underneath him. They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor. 

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way towards the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Neville watched Dean and Seamus shiver in the cold night air, breath plumbing out in front of them, they must have been somewhere remote, Neville counted remember it ever being this cold in september at home.

Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and a loud and gruff voice called out above the noise of the crowd: 

“First'-years! First'-years over here!” a big hairy face beamed out over the sea of heads. “C'mon, follow me – First'-years follow me!' Slipping and stumbling, they did so following Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark either side of them that Neville thought there must be thick trees there, or some kind of enchantment, either way he was fascinated, the world seemed to be so incredibly dark and nobody spoke much. The stars above their heads were brilliant, and they stared up in wonder.

“any more first'-years? Mind your step, now! once or twice. "You'll get yer first' sight of' Hogwarts in a sec,' Hagrid called over his shoulder, '”jus' round this bend here.” 

There was a loud 'Oooooh!'. The narrow path had opened suddenly on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. 

“No more'n four to a boat!” Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. The trio made their way over to their own boat, and were joined by a confused but very pretty dark skinned girl with sharp cheekbones.

she said nothing to the three of them, but stared off into the distance, her eyes fixed on the castle.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, “Right then- FORWARD!” 

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. 

Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. Heads down!' yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff;they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. 

They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. 

“Oy, whose rat is this?' yelled Hagrid, who was check- ing the boats as people climbed out of them. Ron muttered, clearly embarrassed, holding out his hands. 

Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. 

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer rat?" 

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi gang, so it seems we are pretty much on track with regular canon, the next few chapters should be fun!  
> Also question what would you think Neville’s patronus would be because he never got an official one and I think that’s awful.


	5. The sorting ceremony

####  Chapter 5 The sorting ceremony 

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and to Neville she reminded him of his grandmother.

Then he inhaled sharply, he actually recognised her, for when she must have been younger this witch had shared quite a few photographs of a much happier looking Augusta Longbottom, they had mostly been of her own last scholl years, including one with them sharing a quick and scandalous kiss on the lawns in front of a familiar castle.

“The first'-years, Professor McGonagall,” said the tall hair man, who on his excursion to the castle had introduced himself as Hagrid. 

“Thank you,” the professor said. “I will take them from here.” And she pulled the door wide. 

There were gasps of amazement from the other first years, and it deserved everyone. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fit three Hogwarts expresses side by side in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like something Neville had seen out of a historical program, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them, that must have led to the upper floors. 

It was somehow beyond anything Neville had ever pictured, a whole actual castle, and yet it didn't seem as cold and empty at the ones on TV looked, as they mad either noisy way across the flagged stone floor, the drone of hundreds of voices poured from a doorway to the right, it had obviously taken them much longer to get to the school going the scenic route. 

But instead of going towards the noise, Professor McGonagall showed the first-years into a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, despite the room looking like it had been designed to contain many more people, and had been decorated poorly to conceal how much smaller their year group must have been, but like penguins in the cold, unconsciously the group of eleven and twelve year olds clustered together, peering about nervously.

Neville had to stand on his toes to see over the others as Professor McGonagall began to talk;

“-welcome to Hogwarts, The start- of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses.” she said, her voice echoing off the walls, as did Seamus’ voice as he whispered to Dean and Neville, 

“Hear the sound of that?” he was saying, “a banquet just for us.”

But it was mostly lost in the small and strained laughs uttered by some of their fellow first-years.

McGonagall, cleared her throat and shot Seamus a icy glare, but continued;

“The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

She said turning her sharp glare to Draco’s rapidly purpling cheek, to Ron’s overly short robes. Neville fumbled awkwardly with his cloak as her gaze swept over him. He was starting to dislike the idea of this house system, he wasn't any of those things he was meant to be, he wasn't evil was he? He certainly wasn't brave or wise, what would happen to him if he wasn't any of the right things? What would they do to him?

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said Professor McGonagall snappily. And she turned on her heel and click-clacked away forcefully. 

“You know what happens right? How exactly do they sort us into houses?” Neville whispered to Seamus who was staring intently at his shoes. 

"Some sort of test, I think. I haven't actually asked Rory, I haven't actually seen him in ages.” Seamus said, just as nervous as Neville felt.

His heart felt like a toad in his chest, heavy but jumping and jolting furiously trying to escape whatever was coming. Neville might have got into Hogwarts, but he had never shown much competency in magic, even with his fathers wand, he had never even performed the most basic spell well, and yet no one had told him to prepare or expect something like this the moment they arrived. 

He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified too. 

Fixing his eyes on the door, he crossed his fingers, any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom. Then something happened which made him jump about a loot in the air - several people behind him screamed. 

He looked up in surprise, about twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they weren't exactly anything new, on a visit to one of his great aunt's many fancy old houses, she had introduced him to one of his great-great ancestors who has lied- or not really lived in the attic, these new ghost owerver glided across the room talking to each other and hardly glancing at the first-years. 

They seemed to be arguing. One portly ghost who looked like a monk was saying; “Forgive and forget. I say, we ought to give him a second chance- “

But then another ghost interrupted him, 

“My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost-” 

“I say, what are you all doing here?”

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first-years.

The little knot of students looked abound but nobody answered. 

“New students!” said the Friar, smiling widely around at them. “About to be sorted, I suppose?”

No one spoke in response, faces as pale and as frozen as the ghosts, but a few people nodded mutely. 

“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” said the Friar. “My old house, you know-”

“Move along now,” said a sharp voice signalling the return of professor Mc Gonagall. “The Sorting Ceremony's about to start.” wafting at the ghosts with a dismissive sweep of the hand.

One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. And Nveulle heard several people sigh in relief,

“ Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall told them, her tone still snappy, but with none of the actual force, “and follow me.'” 

Nevilles legs felt like they had turned to jelly, as he struggled to put one wobbly foot in front of another. As they lined up Neville relaised Harry Potter wasn't far in front of him, and he coiled just a boy seeing Dean’s equally nervous looking face a few people behind him.

Together they followed McGonagall, as she matched out of the chamber, back across the hall and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. it deserve the name, Neville 

had never even imagined such a huge and magic place. 

It was lit by thousands and thousands of enchanted candles which were floating in mid-air over four long tables, which just made Neville wonder what happened if candle wax dripped down onto the tables, fortunately the candle must have been magic because no one in the lecture room looked perturbed by it. And that was where the rest of the students were sitting, at least Nvelle hoped diy was all of the other students, he had never seen so many people in a room before. 

The tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first-years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. 

The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Neville thought he caught someone's eyes, but dropped his eyes to the floor, desperately trying nt to make any kind of contact with all the staring eyes.

He could just about hear Hermione whisper nervously, “It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in Hogwarts: A History.” but it seemed to be more brought on by the nerves than with any kind of need to show off. 

Neville shot a quick look, and it was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens. 

Over people's shoulders Neville could just about see as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. And Neville had seen plenty of wizard hats in his years, but this one had a strange energy about it, it seemed to fold unnaturally, and the way that everyone had ogne fervently quite made his heart beat faster, what could he possibly do with a hat? -he could feel a pulse in his throat, and it made him want to throw up, but he could do nothing as he noticed that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, and Neville cou;dnt help it, he stared at it too. 

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth – and the hat began to sing:

_ "Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  _

_ But don't judge on what you see, _

_ I'll eat myself if you can find  _

_ A smarter hat than me.  _

_ You can keep your bowlers black,  _

_ Your top hats sleek and tall,  _

_ For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  _

_ And I can cap them all.  _

_ There's nothing hidden in your head  _

_ The Sorting Hat can't see,  _

_ So try me on and I will tell you  _

_ Where you ought to be.  _

_ You might belong in Gryffindor,  _

_ Where dwell the brave at heart,  _

_ Their daring, nerve and chivalry  _

_ Set Gryffindors apart;  _

_ You might belong in Hufflepuff, _

_ Where they are just and loyal,  _

_ Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  _

_ And unafraid of toil;  _

_ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  _

_ If you've a ready mind,  _

_ Where those of wit and learning,  _

_ Will always find their kind;  _

_ Or perhaps in Slytherin  _

_ You'll make your real friends,  _

_ Those cunning folk use any means  _

_ To achieve their ends.  _

_ So put me on!  _

_ Don't be afraid!  _

_ And don't get in flap!  _

_ You're in safe hands  _

_ (though I have none)  _

_ For I'm a Thinking Cap! _

The whole Hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. And despite it being a hat, and having no shoulders or knees, It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

Neville could hear the other students whispering in relief, 

“I'm going to kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling at troll,” someone whispered.

And Neville couldn't help but sigh weekly, the ideas of just walking up to that hat with all of those people watching him made him want to curl up and cry let alone have it make him into a spectacle in front of everyone. He wanted to cry, to curl up into a ball and disappear, but he could do it, they would just look more, he could almost hear the laughter now.

Against all these people and that open sky Neville flet tiny, tiny and unimportant and nothing. He felt sick.

It wasn't just that, but the hat seemed to be asking rather a lot: Neville wasnt any of the things that the hat had said, he wasn't brave or clever or cunning, he just wanted to cry, to run home and pretend this never happened.

It felt like some bg joke, he would just get to that hat and it would tell him exactly who he was, he was nothing, i would tell him there had been some mistake, and he should just go home. And Nveille would just crumble away under it. 

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. 

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said; “Abbott, Hannah!” 

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, her eyes wide, with nerves that Neville recognised, mabey she would be like him, but she put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. There was a moment's pause and- “HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat. 

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Neville could see the round ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her. 

"Bones, Susan!” went next and again-

“HUFFLEPUFF!” replied the hat, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah, just as much nerves on her face, but at least the people at that table seems to be welcoming them gently, they all looked rather kind, and as Nveille watched an older students patted them on the back, or shook their hands. Nveille was struck by how warm they seemed to be compared to the other tables, 

"Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!” The table second from the left clapped this time; the intelligent Ravenclaws looked much more subdued and formal as they shook Terry’s hand. Terry himself just simled wildly, like he had been expecting it, and Neville was struck by how not him they were.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy'' went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender'' became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; they were by far the loudest group, a bunch of older ginger boys jostled a the table cheering and shaning plates as they roared a their new arrival. They Were everything Nveille was scared of, they were so loud and boisterous, exactly the kind of people that would make Neville shake in his shoes.

“Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. A decision that was met with hissed as much as it was with a subdued cheer, the students at that table looked disgruntled and as Millicnet, a heavy set but not particularly unpleasant or evil looking girl, sat down among them. The Gryffindor table jeered at this, pushing back against the Slytherins, but were mostly ignored by the other two houses.

Neville was definitely starting to feel sick now, he hadn't been here very long and yet he could feel the tension, something he didn't want to get anywhere near to.

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Quite quickly Nveille had realised something that had made his stomach drop even more. Sometimes, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. It made him feel so much worse, how long would he have to sit there for the hat to decide he wasnt worth it. He was nothing special, he was barely even a wizard.

His heart was in his throat as

“Finnigan, Seamus” was called

Seamus sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him Gryffindor. Which made Neville shake a little more, he had hoped he and Seamus, or at least someone he had known would have stayed with him a little longer. 

As “Granger, Hermione!” he caught Seamus’ eyes, Seamus smiled weakly and flashed hima small thumbs up gesture, which did not make him feel any better.

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat on her head. 

"GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat.

Neville heard a groan but tried to block it out, of course he didn't know these people but his name couldn't be far away now, Professor Mcgonagle had to be near the L’s, but what if she didn't say his name, what if there had been a mistake, 

“Longbottom, Neville”

His heart dropped to his shoes, the room seems to be strangely quiet as Neville crept forwards, the very air felt heavy like her was walking through treacle, he wanted to cry, all eyes were on him, so when someone whispered loud enough to be heard through the fog in his brain, everything seemed to sop.

“That's him!”

And suddenly whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. '”Him really?” “ _ Neville Longbottom _ ?” there was laughter, Nevilel could swear it, and that's when he tripped over his own feet.

He wanted to cry as he pressed his face against the stone floor, his face flame red, his ears burning, eyes damp with tears, The last thing he saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall swimming before him through his tears, full of people craning to get a good look at him. 

Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited his throat with tears, he sniffed pathetically. 

_ “Hmm, _ ” came a small voice in his ear. He made a chaoked yelp, and wanted to wrench the what if his head, his whole head burning like he had got a particularly bad sunburn

_ “Difficult. Very difficult. There's lots of fear, but plenty of courage, I see. Loyal of course, but what potential you could have, their determination too, you could go far, if you just found the drive, you could be great. Not a bad mind, either. But my how nervous are you, yet here you are, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?" _

Neville gripped the edges of the stool like a lifeline, he felt like his mind was being scrubbed, and yet like the hat didn't really like what it saw, so he just closed his eyes and thought, “Not Gryffindor, just let me be loyal and nice, please.” 

“ _ Oh no no, not Gryffindor, eh? That won't do.” _

“No please,'' Neville tried to think back, trying to block out all of the hats' whispers, clenching his eyes shut and trying to ignore it as if it whispered back to him.

_ “There no doubt about it-” _

“No please, i don't want to be brave, i just want to be-”

_ “The potential you have, we can have that slipping away can we? No questioning-” _

“Please don't.”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't sure whether or not to put the entire Hat speech in, but i think its just a bit of fun, especially if you cant remember exactly how funny it was in the books.


	6. A strange welcome

"GRYFFINDOR!"  
He heard the hat shout the last word to the whole Hall. But with trembling hands he took off the hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table.   
If they were cheering for him, Neville couldn't hear it, as he slipped awkwardly into a gap in the beach, he could feel the burning gazes on him. A ghost tried to pat him on the back or something but his hand just passed through his shoulder with feeling like an icy breeze cutting through him, he tried to shift away from the other people at the table, and tried to ignore them. As he watched the ceremony continue.  
Despite his bruised face Malfoy still managed to swagger forward when his name was called, the hat had barely touching his head when it screamed,   
"SLYTHERIN!"  
And like that Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.  
Neville couldn't look around, he didn't want to, his eyes glued straight ahead, pretending he could feel the curious gazes from all around, he wiped his teary face on his sleeve, there weren't many people left now. Eagerly then a pair of twin girls, "Patil'' .. And then,   
"Moon"   
"Nott"   
"Parkinson"   
"Perks, Sally-Anne" and then at last - "Potter, Harry!"   
There was a great interest in the last name, and Neville couldn't disagree with them, at this point he wouldn't have been surprised if the story behind Draco's bruise hasn't already spread like a wildfire across the school.  
The hat sat on his head for a while, silent as a statue until;  
"SLYTHERIN!" it yelled,  
Neville could see some of the others in the queue waiting go pale, even Hermione inhaled sharply, the was a rustle as almost the entire school turned to gauge Draco's reaction, the ordinarily pale boy, had gone beet red as Harry Potter, slipped down opposite him, his face calm, but a small smile was undeniably present.

There was some small smattering of laughter, but the attention passed. Neville finally looked to the High Table, they must have been the teachers, because in the centre, sat Albus Dumbledore. Neville recognised him at once from a picture that his Grandmother had framed with her other favorite and most important members of the wizarding community. And despite never seeing him before in the flesh, he had the kind of sparkle in his eyes that made him almost immediately trustworthy, Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole Hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. And his piercing eyes were staring right back at Neville. Neville wanted to shrivel up, but instead just tuned away, hoping no one would notice him, he didn't really know any of the other teachers, of course he had heard them being talked about, or had pictures shoved in his face by his family, who to behave for, and who to avoid. Professor Quirrell,was not to be messed with, he was too nervous and would breakdown into stammering if pushed to far, also he couldn't question the peculiar turban, apparently that was a no go, Professor Sprout, she was nice if you showed interest in herbology-  
And now there were only three people left to be sorted.  
"Turpin, Lisa" became a Ravenclaw, and then "Ronald Weasley'' and when the hat shouted, 'GRYFFINDOR! The boy Neville had first been watching on the train, the one with the escaping rat, collapsed down into the chair next to him. Neville clapped nervously, as the other ginger boys clustered around ron, slapping his back and cheering,  
"Well done, Ron, excellent," said the oldest looking one, a badge in red glittering on his robe, as he called pompously across the table at his brother, despite the fact they ignored Neville for the most he still felt like he cowered beneath the attention.  
Staring down at his golden but empty plate. He had only just realised how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.   
The pretty girl from the boats; "Zabini, Blaise" was made a Slytherin, and the names were done, with very little ceremony Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.   
There was a lull in the low low conversion that had been building since the evening had begun, as Albus Dumbledore had got to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there   
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! And before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words, here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you." and then he sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered, but Neville just felt more uneasy, was there meant to be some kind of meaning, was he alright?  
Ron leant forwards towards his brother, "I knew he was strange, but Is he - a bit mad?' Ron asked Percy uncertainty.  
"Mad?" said Percy airily, just loud enough for Neville and most of the other first years to hear. 'He's a genius! Best wizard in the world But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes?"   
And Neville's jaw dropped, whilst he had looked away for seconds the dishes before te=hem had been filled with food.  
There was anything you could ever want, roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots and gravy like the world's fanciest sunday lunch, there was also a strange bottle that looked like muggle sauce labeled ketchup and a random bow of mint humbugs like something you would expect old people would have on TV.  
It brought back so many good memories for Neville, a big weekly meal like this would be an event for any family member in the vicinity, everyone working in harmony to get a meal ready. Nevile had spent a lot of time peeling potatoes and carrots whilst being chased by Uncle Algies animated parsnips before.  
It was the perfect warm kind of meal to help his feras fade to the back of his mind, so he piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious.  
There was an airy sign from above them, and Neville looked up in surprise to see one of the ghosts floating above them looking grey with melancholy, the ghost was wearing ruff that bobbed violently with each sigh   
"That does look good,' said the ghost sadly, watching them devour the spread.   
"I've never met a real ghost, can't you -?" Ron said, pausing with a fork halfway to his mouth and gravy all over his face.  
" I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service."  
"The resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower?" Herminoes asked, from further down the table, where she was violently shaking the ketchup bottle over her plate,  
"Oh! I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly, his face cracking into a wide smile, "you're Nearly Headless Nick!"  
"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" the ghost began stiffly,   
But Seamus, who Neville hadn't noticed sliding down the bench towards Neville and some of the other first years, interrupted him; "How can you be nearly headless?"   
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted. "Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. It was like something from a horror movie, you could see the hanging flesh, the flapping of the tendons and ligament, the capillaries waving but like worms.  
It was awful.   
Thankful it was in the same pearly white aa the rest of the ghost, but now Nveille was regretting eating so much. The look on some of the others' faces seemed to agree with the sentiment, there were plenty of dropped jaws and wide eyes, Nveilel would have been surprised if he had gone a little green.  
Seamus' eyes were wide but with much more morbid curiosity,  
Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back on to his neck, coughed and said, "So I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindor has never gone so long without winning. Slytherin  
have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's almost becoming unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."  
They craned their necks to see over to the Slytherin table where a horrible ghost floated above the table, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face and robes stained with silver blood. He looked like the kind of ghost Neville had seen in his nightmares.  
The ghost was right over his respective first years, Nveilel could just about make out the figure he was taking great interest in. Neville was surprised to see it was Harry.   
"How did he get covered in blood?' asked Seamus with great interest.   
"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately. 

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, like clouds on a sunny day, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the puddings appeared. Blocks of ice- cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding. it was an incredible feat of magic, something Nveille had never seen anything like before.  
He watched stunned for a second before he joined everyone else on tucking in. as Neville was passed a doughnut, he could hear the conversations turning to their families.  
"T'm half and half," said Seamus proudly, and it did explain to Neville why his dad had looked so confused back at the station.   
"Me dad's a Muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him. Apparently he tried holy water on her three different times before i was born after that."  
It seems like quite a weird fact, or just to mention, by the others just laughed.  
"What about you, Dean- right?" said Ron "everyone knows about me.".   
Dean looked conflicted for a second but then began to talk; Well, my dad was a wizard, and my mum didn't really know much about it, but my dad died when i was young- he had cancer-'' he seems to realize what he was saying, as the conversation had died down and Ron was looking sheepish for even asking, "its ok, i don't really remember him, i was too young. But so my mum got remarried and so now i have loads of half siblings, and they are all pretty cool but they are all muggles, i thought i was until my auntie Aala came over from Barbados, and taught me all sorts of stuff. She even took me to diagon alley. She came here the same year Seamus's mum did too, so now we're friends! My mum didn't really understand but she was so happy when my letter came."  
As Lavender Brown one of the other new students began to talk about her family, Neville could hear Hermione and Percy talking about lessons, something else to worry Neville, he had balry ever performed magic before, and if they expected him to beagle to do so in lessons, and he couldn't, what was he going to do?  
But as Neville listened, he paused in his nerves, it was almost charming the way they were so fascinated, especially Hermione, who wants in a dissimilar situation.  
"I do hope they start straight away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course. It sounds like one of the most impressive types of magic,"  
"It's rather difficult of course," Percy said with another smug smile, but at this point Neville really couldn't keep his attending, he could barely keep his eyes open, all of a sudden he had just started to feel so warm and sleepy, like all the firsts and streese of ten day had just settled down on his shoulders like a weighted duvet.   
He looked up to the High Table again as he tried to suppress a yawn.  
The giant man; Hagrid, was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore, and a small shaky looking man, wearing a turban who someone pointed out was Professor Quirrell,who for someone so shaky taught defence against the dark arts, and he was talking to a teacher who was round and looked rather jolly,he gave a deep booming laugh, as he scanned the crows with deceptively dark beady eyes, and then it all. happened very suddenly. The round teacher said something to Quirell who seemed to flinch away from him, and then the both met Neville's eyes.  
There was a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Neville's forehead. Like the tim he had touched a hot pan,   
"Ouch!" he yelped, surprising himself with his own volume, as he clapped a hand to his head. "What is it?" asked Percy, taking a sudden interest.   
"N-nothing." Neville replied meekly, already quailing and behaving the attention.   
The pain had gone quickly, but was replaced by the feeling Harry had got from the teacher's look - a feeling that he had a great interest in Neville, a hungry possessive one.  
And that made him want to curl up or hide.  
But that too dissipated rapidly.   
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy nervously.  
"Oh so, if you know Quirrell already,then that Professor Slughorn," Percy said, looking a little miffed. "He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's only here to sociales with any students who might become famous. Every year he pickets his favourites and spends the year spoiling them, he's quite a collector." Percy shook his head, clearly disapproving, "he's never really cared for our family."   
"Oh," said Neville quietly, "what a shame." He wasn't really sure why it mattered though, he didn't really understand much of what was happening, he didn't really understand the importance of house points or even houses, but here he was.  
At last, the puddings too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again.   
The Hall fell silent. "Ahem - just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do wen to remember that as well-"  
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins; "I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."  
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-Floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." he said it with a completely straight face, and Neville saw some of the other first year laugh nervously, but they were the only ones to do so.   
Percy ground. "Must be serious," said Percy, "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go some- where - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us Prefects, at least."  
The idea of a forest of dangerous beasts made Neville's toes curl, he did not ever want to leave the school ever, by the sounds of it.  
But unperturbed, Dumbledore continued; "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" he cried.  
Neville noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick as if he was trying to get a fly off the end and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself snake-like into words. "Everyone picks their favourite tune," he cheered giddily "and off we go!"  
And with that the entire school began to bellow, Nevilel looked around with his eyes wide, but most of the older students drowned him out entirely, so he just whispered the words to himself like he was reading them out of a book.   
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,   
Teach us something please,   
Whether we be old and bald   
Or young with scabby knees,   
Our heads could do with filling   
With some interesting stuff,   
For now they're bare and full of air,   
Dead flies and bits of fluff,   
So teach us things worth knowing,   
Bring back what we've forgot,   
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,   
And learn until our brains all rot." 

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.   
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is kind of experimental, so please give me your feed back, what do you think will happen next, how will Neville deal with the story that was once Harry's?


End file.
